Chapter 9 - Hiding in Plain Sight (G
Shameful are the ways of darkness. In victory, it flaunts and spits upon its crushed enemies. In defeat, it accuses the innocent and loses all respect. At any time, however, the darkness can be summed up in one word: pain. Though the suffering inflicted on others by servants of the darkness is great, the suffering that they experience themselves is much greater. Xavier had fully realized that his situation was hopeless, but he foolishly persisted, refusing to give in to the torture that he had once thought to be his ally. Lying before Chubba were two identical bandits who each claimed to be the fake. Fueled with rage from his massive loss (the author would like to take this moment to remind the reader that this was not any ordinary setback, for it was a twenty dollar bill that went up in flames), the clubba could not control his need to invoke revenge upon the one who inflicted it. Faced with a trial that could be resolved by only the most intelligent of minds, however, identifying the real Xavier would not be easy. This in mind, it would have been much easier for him to simply wait until the effects of Parin’s transformation wore off. As previously stated, though, this notion of intellect is most outrageous. “Xavier!” Chubba shouted. “Reveal yourself so I can beat the tar out of you with my meaty ogre fists!” Surprisingly enough, this attempt was unsuccessful. “You want Xavier?” began one of the bandits. “Take him!” “What?” chimed in the other. “I’m Parin! He’s the real deal!” “I see. I guess we’re going to have to do this the hard way,” Chubba said, cracking his knuckles. “If you’re Xavier, say ‘I’!” To his utter shock, both bandits remained silent. “Listen, Chubba,” said the one Chubba had silently labeled as Bandit 1, a title he was most proud of. “These silly games aren’t going to reveal that Private Bozo-” a name Bandit 1 was most proud of, “-is Xavier. As a matter of fact, I doubt anything you try will do much good. Instead, I just need you to look into my eyes. Look into my eyes, and trust me when I tell you that I’m Parin. Please believe me!” Chubba attempted to look into the eye holes of Bandit 1’s mask, but this was quite difficult considering they were basically endless voids of darkness. “I think I have a better, less stupid idea.” Bandit 1 and Bandit 2 both doubted the truthfulness in the second part of that statement. “We’ll do a cliche Parin-themed quiz to determine who is the fake here!” Upon saying these words, the lights went off. Several moments passed before they flickered back on, revealing a large podium at which a sparkly tuxedo-wearing Chubba with gelled hair stood. Behind him, sitting in rows of folding chairs, sat every other Glitz Pit battler, as well as Yoshi. Both bandits found themselves standing at podiums of their own. “What? How did they even-” Bandit 2 began, but he was quickly cut off. “Don’t question it,” Bandit 1 sighed. “Over time, I’ve learned that it’s best to simply not question the many odd things that take place here.” “Good evening, folks!” Chubba shouted, clearly having taken on the persona of a stereotypical game show host. “Welcome back to another episode of…” “XAVIER!” “OR!” “NOT XAVIER!” shouted the crowd, clearly having forgotten the seriousness of the matter. “Hold on a second,” complained Bandit 2. “If we’re asking questions about Parin--which is me--shouldn’t the show be called ‘Parin or Not Pa-” “So how are you fine ladies and gentlemen doing tonight?” Chubba continued, ignorant and gleeful. Everyone, except for Skelloetta, responded in a noisy compilation of screams. “Meloetta,” the boo said, addressing her sister. “Why are you cheering? Don’t you realize that there’s an innocent duplighost up there who very well may be unrightfully punished?” “Please!” Meloetta replied, rolling her eyes. “Chubba’s a master detective. I mean, just look at him!” The clubba continued chuckling long after the battlers had discontinued their shouts, his eyes crossed. “Okay, Parin could be doomed. What are the chances of that, though? Chubba is asking questions about her, after all.” “That’s true, but…” “Oh, don’t tell me you’re concerned for that filthy bandit. Have you forgotten how he’s disregarded our feelings and treated us like trash as of late?” Meloetta took in a deep breath. “The guy’s responsible for the death of Tubba. Sure, nobody really liked him, but that makes him a murderer, nonetheless. His end isn’t just for our satisfaction; it would seriously do the world, as a whole, a favor! Do you really want the knowledge that you’d be relieved to see a girl who’s done nothing wrong take the wrath of that fat clubba and let a killer run free on your soul?” Skeloetta did not respond. She did silently take into account, however, the fact that she literally had no soul. “Alright, folks!” shouted Chubba, who had finally come out of his entranced state. “Without further delay, let’s get this show underway!”